


The Virtues of Villains

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-30
Updated: 2012-04-30
Packaged: 2017-11-04 14:07:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/394706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The arranged marriage between James Moriarty and Sebastian Moran.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**PROLOGUE**

The funeral hardly seemed worth the effort with only his family and a few people who could scarcely be called friends attending. It was that fact that his brother found sad because it felt like his brother had wasted his life. Augustus Moran pulled at the collar of his shirt as he started sorting through his brother’s belongings. 

The flat smelled rancid and of stale sweat. When he had first entered the flat he had gagged from the smell and had staggered out for a breath of fresh air. Augustus had opened the windows in a vain effort to let a breeze in and air out the flat but it had barely helped. The smell seemed to have soaked into the very walls. While he could do nothing about the smell Augustus could clean and pack away the remainder of his brother’s life. 

The task made him unbearably sad because it reinforced everything he knew to be true about his brother and revealed nothing that would redeem him of any of his faults. When he had first starting sorting he had joked to his wife that the sheer number of bottles lying present in the flat would cover the funeral expenses. It had done little to elevate Essie’s mood. After a cockroach had crawled onto her hand she had yelled that he could either leave the flat for the landlord or clean it alone. He refused to let Phillip’s life be picked apart by strangers. Essie refused to return.

He kept cleaning.

It was past noon when he began to find the mound of past-due bills and IOUs stuffed in the drawer of a desk that had lain buried under a pile of clothing and old take out. The majority came from normal bill collectors that would write off the debt once news of Phillip’s death reached them. 

Other notes worried him; his brother’s hand had kept careful track of money owed to several people, most who were known as nothing more than a nickname. The more he read them through the more he understood how his brother kept afloat; he would borrow sums from new people to pay off previous creditors. In May of last year it seemed that his brother had managed to pay off all his creditors. He found a few gambling tickets here and there; most of them losers. While it was painful to look at those reminders of his brother’s failures it hurt less to look at them than at the piles of old résumés and series of job listings. 

He managed to clear the flat in three days of most of the garbage and once the true state and condition of Phillip’s belongs became clear Augustus had quickly settled on what few pieces of furniture were salvageable for donation while the rest would be thrown out along with items like his wardrobe. The number of items Augustus had wanted to keep had barely fit in a box: family pictures that had sat in the back of a drawer collecting dust, a few knick-knacks from when the two of them had had a better relationship, a hand made coffee mug that August had made Phillip his sixth birthday that he had found chipped and serving as an ash tray, and, finally, a copy of their father’s will. The will Augustus had never had the opportunity or the chance to read. 

Looking over the nearly empty flat he assumed he needed one more day to finish cleaning before he turned over the keys to the landlord. With that in mind he went home; thinking about Essie and Sebastian, who kept asking him questions about the uncle he had never met. Essie was sitting in the living room, eyes glued to the television, when he finally arrived. 

She took one look on his sweaty and disheveled state and pointed upstairs. “Bathroom, now. After you’re done cleaning I’ll serve you dinner.” She ordered. “Say hello to Sebastian before you do, but don’t distract him he’s doing his homework.”

“Yes, dear.” He said smiling at her tone of disgust. His heart wasn’t in it though. One more day and his brother’s existence will have essentially have been removed from the earth. He would no longer burden them with his emotional and psychological problems. He didn’t realize he was shaking until Essie touched his arm. When had she moved? 

“Oh Auggie,” She muttered sadly. “I don’t know what you can be feeling; I honestly can’t. I know-I know what he meant to you though. Phillip was the only member of your family who ever cared about you and in some ways it made him worse than the others because it let him use you where others couldn’t.” She sighed and held him as he cried silent tears into her hair. “He was sick, Augustus. He was sick and there was nothing we could have done to help him without him wanting to help himself.”

“He drank himself to death.” He muttered. 

“He was self-medicating.” She corrected. “I hate thinking it because it makes me feel like an awful person but the truth is he’s no longer suffering.”

“You’re just glad he’s dead.” Augustus hissed, a bout of unexpected anger filling him. “You always hated him. It’s true what you said; I let him borrow money from us more than I probably should have. He was my brother, Essie. I had to help him. You didn’t see what I saw. I saw everything – the drugs, the gambling, the mess. I also saw glimpses of the times that gave let me hope he would get better. Now there’ll be nothing.” He pulled back and placed his hands over his eyes. “Tomorrow will be the last day I need then we’ll be done with everything.” 

Essie nodded, eyes sad. She didn’t ask him to apologize. “Go upstairs, I’ll get dinner ready.”

He nodded and stopped at the stairs. “I’m sorry, Essie. That was unforgivable, I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

“It’s fine, Auggie. Go get cleaned up.” He slid upstairs, pausing outside of Sebastian’s room and then entered. Sebastian was sitting at his desk looking over his homework. 

“Hi daddy.” Sebastian uttered distractedly. “Are you done at Uncle Phillip’s flat?”

“Not yet, tomorrow then I’ll be here for a few more days before going back to work.”

“Kay, I have to finish this.” he gestured to his homework. “I don’t understand it.”

“I’ll help you later if you don’t understand it by the time I’m eating.” Sebastian nodded absent-mindedly. 

Augustus headed toward for the bathroom. 

The next day he found himself back at Phillip’s flat. The box with the mementos was still next to the door where he left it but it didn’t seem like it was in the same spot. He knew that was ridiculous; no one else could have entered. After a cursory glance he knew it was his imagination acting up. Augustus would never forgive himself for not trusting his instincts and leaving the flat that moment. 

He headed toward Philipp’s bedroom where the remaining items remained and found himself face to face with a pistol. He froze, the blood in his body feeling like ice in his veins. What was going on? 

“I was afraid I’d have to get into something like this.” The man holding the pistol said, his rich Irish accent drawing Augustus’ attention from the gun to his person. The man was dressed casually; he was rather handsome with dark hair and dark eyes, and stood level with Augustus. He would have looked intelligent and kind but his eyes betrayed his true character as a result he appeared to be sharp and cruel. 

“What do you want?” Augustus’ managed to stutter out. “I don’t have any money. I don’t live here. My brother does –did. He’s dead and he didn’t leave anything of value behind.”

The man sighed. “I know which makes this so much more complicated.” He pointed to the windows for a moment. “I’ve been watching you and was expecting that you’d stumble across something of value or maybe even, if by some miracle your brother hadn’t spent it the moment he had his hands on it, some money.” his voice turned sour and dangerous. “Because your brother owed me a lot of money, Mr. Moran. Quite a bit.” 

He stared at Augustus’ face intensely. “So that leaves me with you.”

“I can’t give you anything. I hardly even spoke with Phillip. I can’t help you, I can’t do it.” he begged.

“But you can, you will or you son and wife will be…done away with until my money is returned back to me.” 

“Please.” What could he do? “How much is it? How much did Phillip borrow from you? I have some money saved maybe I could give you that.” He dropped to his knees the moment the man uttered the sum. 

He didn’t have the money; he couldn’t even come up with it until at least a year and only if he stopped paying for any bills. He licked his lips; there had to be a way to avoid this – he didn’t want to die; it wasn’t his fault. It was his late brother’s reckless habits that had caused him to borrow more than he could afford, not his. 

“I don’t have the money.” He said again, desperately. “If – if I’m dead then you won’t get any money at all. I can- I can turn over paycheck I own over to you all; my wife works – she makes less than I do – but we can live off it if we sell the house, most of the furniture. You’d get the money back within a year; all of it. I’d turn it all over even, in order to account for interest.”

The man lowered the pistol by a few degrees and Augustus held his breath. Was he thinking this over or was he going to shoot him in the leg? Pain as an incentive. “I swear I have nothing. Look over the will in the box up front, everything went to Phillip, everything except enough for me to cover the rest of my university fees which is long gone and if I hadn’t used it, it would have gone back to Philipp.” Augustus added, knowing the words were practically tumbling out of his mouth. 

“I know that.” the man replied evenly. “I know everything about you and your brother. I know your father hated you and favored his eldest. I know exactly how much is in your bank account at this moment and how many bills you are expecting to pay for this month. I had to make sure I was getting my money back when I lent it to your brother.” Moriarty continued. “Of course your brother ruined everything by dying didn’t he? I knew he had nothing of value, at least he most likely didn’t, but he could repay it; the man had a talent of wheedling money from unexpected places when he was very desperate.” 

Augustus thought back to the moments where Phillip would show up and beg for a loan, which he would never repay and hated him for the first time in his life.

“Unfortunately, that leaves you as his guarantor and you do a piss poor job at it.” He sighed. “I don’t want to kill you, it’ll cause a mess. I like these shoes. Oh, and it’ll bring the police,” he raised his pistol again. “I like this gun. It would be useless if I killed you with it but torturing you would just be a waste of time since you have no other family members except your wife and your son.” He paused and gazed at him intently then smiled.

“You have a son, don’t you Augustus?” 

“Yes.” Augustus answered feeling a new wave of perspiration breaking out over his body. “What does this have to do with Sebastian?” 

“Nothing but, I think I can see a way out of this for you.”

“Leave Sebastian out of this! I’ll take out a life insurance policy and you can kill me to get your money back.” Augustus blurted out. What would they do to Sebastian if he turned him over to them?

“Oh, it’s nothing like that.” he replied as he realized Augustus was thinking the worse of him. “Your son is coming into a lot of money, not you of course nor your wife, but Sebastian is lined up to inherit a fortune when he reaches twenty-five.” It wasn’t a lie; while Augustus’ father had left him nothing he had left a trust fund for his first-born grandson – something he had expected of Phillip to leave behind before Augustus but his brother had died childless. 

“What does this have to do with anything? He won’t get receive that for seventeen years.”

“I know.” The man said in a voice that clearly stated he thought Augustus was speaking needlessly. “It’s merely that MY son, James, is the only child I have. Like you I want my son to be happy.” Augustus had no idea where this conversation was headed. “I want your son to marry mine.”

“No.” How old was James? 

“No?” Moriarty repeated amused. “I doubt you have much of a choice in this. My son is two; your boy is what eight? We can introduce them; arrange their marriage and marry them as soon as possible; which would be when James is sixteen.”

“Arranged marriages don’t happen anymore. We couldn’t enforce it if either boy wanted to back out.”

“Oh but we could.” he said gleefully. “The laws on arranged marriage haven’t been repealed; as long as we get everything signed and squared away properly before they’re of age. We can’t stop them from divorcing but we can have them accept the idea while they’re young. James will get a very good amount of money in store for him in the future, either way.” Marriage. He could get out of this if he married his son off. 

Augustus felt a sick churning in his stomach; his mouth suddenly filled with the barest tang of bile. “What do I do need to do? And what about Phillip’s debt?” That would forever be hanging over his head if anything happened to Sebastian because the trust fund would vanish along with him.

“Good man, I knew you’d see it my way.” he said, lowering the gun further. “As for your brother’s debt, I’m sure we can find a repayment option that’s a bit more feasible for your means. You’ll need to start saving for the wedding after all and we can’t have my future in-law a breath away from poverty; what would the neighbors think?” He said cheerfully, his eyes sparkling viciously. 

“Seeing as we’re going to be family I think I should introduce myself, my name is Richard, Richard Moriarty.”


	2. A Battle of Wills

**CHAPTER ONE: A Battle of Wills**

Sebastian looked over at the toddler who was peering at him with equally curious eyes. He felt uncomfortable in his only suit and felt sympathetic toward the boy in front of him who had attempted to crawl andwalk away in what looked to be his best clothing as well. He looked over his father who looked sick and pale. “Who is he, dad?” Sebastian asked. Augustus knelt down and motioned to the family across from them. 

“He’s the boy you’re going to marry.” Statement, fact, no denial. Sebastian frowned. He thought he chose the person he would marry. 

“Why?” His father would have the answer.

“It’s just something some families do for the best interest of their children, and believe me Sebastian, this is for the best. We didn’t make this decision lightly.” Augustus proudly kept his voice calm. 

“What’s his name?” Sebastian asked his father while looking at the child. The toddler seemed to know he was being addressed and spoke.

“Jimmy.” He announced and with a small tilt to his words that indicated his accent wasn’t the same as his. Sebastian wrinkled his nose. “Jimmy Morwiarrrree.” He tried to say. 

“James Moriarty, properly.” James’ father added. Jimmy looked up at his father and raised his hands to be picked-up. Richard Moriarty picked up his son and walked over to Sebastian, kneeling down so he and James were at eye level. 

“Why do I have to marry him? Why do I have to marry a boy? I’m supposed to marry a girl.” Sebastian protested as the boy was placed in his arms, Jimmy didn’t seem happy with it either and immediately struggled in his arms in an effort to be placed down. Sebastian held him tightly and winced when small legs kicked him and the boy began to screech.

Richard Moriarty quickly pulled his son back into his arms but Jimmy didn’t calm down, he continued screaming in fury. “It’s just something we thought would be in both your best interest.” Richard uttered over his son’s screams. 

“Yes.” Augustus agreed then licked his lips nervously. “You’ll understand when you’re older, Sebastian. I know right now it might not look like you two will get along but that’s why we’re introducing you now so you can start to know each other.” Jimmy had stopped struggling in his father’s arms and had settled on crying silently though his face still conveyed some degree of his anger at being placed at an unknown boy’s arms. 

“I don’t want to marry him!” Sebastian yelled finally having had enough. He didn’t want to marry that stupid fussy baby. He didn’t want to get married at all. He wanted to explore the world and go see places like India or Egypt. 

“Sebastian, please understand.” Augustus chided. “You are going to marry James, there is no alternative. I know this is a lot to take in but just try to understand.”

“NO!” Sebastian yelled feeling overwhelmed. He didn’t understand this; why this was happening? He just wanted it to be like before where marriage was something girls played at and adults did when they loved someone enough. You weren’t given to someone to marry. 

“NO.” Jimmy uttered just as loudly looking right at him. Sebastian glared at Jimmy. 

“See he doesn’t’ want to get married either.”

“James doesn’t understand what we’re talking about.”

“Do.” Jimmy contradicted. 

“No, you don’t.” Richard told his son. “I had hoped this would have gone better but it seems I was mistaken. We should have taken this slower but I wanted to have you two meet each other as soon as possible. I rather you know each other than marry virtual strangers.” He shook his head. 

“Regardless of this, you two will get married and you two will get to know each other in the following years.” Richard held Sebastian by his arm, it was firm grip and Sebastian tried to not squirm away from him. “Right now it will seem like you two have nothing in common because James is still a child, but you two will learn to get along, one way or another.” Richard’s intense stare made Sebastian feel uncomfortable. “Do you understand?”

His father was tense next to him and Sebastian had the feeling that James’ father would hurt him if he answered wrong. He would hurt him until he answered correctly. 

“Yes.” Sebastian whispered. Richard let go of his arm and smiled. 

“Good.” James looked at him from his father’s arms and Sebastian reached out to take him. Richard placed him in his there with an insincere smile. 

Sebastian did not tell his father how much Richard Moriarty frightened him. He did not think it would help anything. Sebastian could tell Augustus didn’t feel comfortable around Richard so he didn’t want to alarm him. If he did what Richard Moriarty told them then they wouldn’t be hurt. 

Afterward, Sebastian played with the small Jimmy who was ordering him around to hand him something or another (what did he want?). As the small boy smiled shyly at him when he handed the correct object he had asked for Sebastian tried not to think that he held the same eyes of his father. If he was going to marry him he didn’t want to hate him. 

A vast feeling of hopelessness overwhelmed him. Why was this happening? He wiped his eyes and kept playing with the boy who was babbling nonsensically at him.

 

Things did not change, Sebastian and James remained engaged and, true to Richard Moriarty’s word, efforts were made to have both boys know each other. Sebastian visited James twice a year for the next five years, over the summer and a week during winter holidays. The rest of the year he sent poorly worded letters that revealed nothing about him. His father encouraged him to try and engage him into some kind of friendship but Sebastian refused and stuck to writing about nothing. James wrote him back when he was three-- a letter that he could barely read and ended with a heart around what he thought was his name. As he grew older James’ letters were hardly better than his. 

When James was eight weekly telephone calls were held and the letters stopped, though encouraged to continue. The first call was so awkward that Sebastian hung up on the eight-year-old. He felt embarrassed and slightly ashamed. He was talking to a child, and while he was could hardly called an adult at fourteen it felt wrong. This wasn’t they way things were supposed to be. Not in the slightest. 

There had to be a way out of this situation. Try as he might couldn’t. He had spoken with his father when he was twelve, a conversation that he still remembered as vividly as the first time he met Jimmy. 

“Dad? I need to talk to you.” He had uttered while trying not to fidget under his father’s gaze.

“About?” Augustus had asked, he was smiling but his eyes never lost that wary, half-frightened look that he always seemed to have. Sebastian had a hard time remembering a time he hadn’t had that expression on his face.

“I don’t want to marry, Jimmy.” He had declared, fist clenching tightly next to his side. “I **won’t**. You can’t make me. I asked my teachers about it after I heard that story on the news. They told me you couldn’t make me go through with it. You can’t make me marry him.” Earlier that month a girl whose name he had forgotten had run away from her parents because of an arranged marriage. She had been older than him. It had been all over the news. 

A panicked and half-crazed look overcame his father’s features. “Did you tell anyone, Sebastian?” Augustus rushed to his son and took him by the arms. “Did you tell anyone!” he yelled shaking him. 

“No!” Sebastian shouted. What happened to his normally calm father? Who was this man in front of him? Augustus closed his eyes and took a deep breath, relieved at his words. 

“I… Listen to me, Sebastian. It’s very important that you do exactly as I tell you.” Augustus whispered. “You cannot tell anyone about the marriage, your mother’s safety depends on it.” He looked away from him. “It has nothing to do with Jimmy but a series of circumstances have made it necessary that you and James marry. It’ll ensure nothing happens to either family. Jimmy doesn’t know anything about it.”

“You can’t make me.” Sebastian retorted. 

“I can’t but…” he stopped and Sebastian knew who could, Richard Moriarty. 

“Are you afraid of him?” Sebastian asked.

“No, of course not.” Augustus lied. “It’s just, please Sebastian. Don’t tell anyone. Don’t back out.” He swallowed. “You can divorce James if you want in the future after you are married. First give it a chance.” He ran his hand through his son’s hair. “You never gave it a chance.” Augustus continued. “No matter what we tried, you never put up an effort.” He licked his lips. “Just give him a chance, James.”

“I like girls.”

“Give him a chance.” Augustus repeated. Sebastian felt something in him crumble and he nodded, resentment growing in his chest. He would divorce James and he would never speak to his family once he was old enough to live alone. 

As he lay in bed that night feeling bitter and alone he realized exactly few options he had in his life. Everything centered on his marriage –vacations, school trips, and holidays. His life revolved around James’ birthday and each year passed like a night closer to a criminal’s sentencing in which he knew he would be pronounced guilty. He didn’t know how his father and Richard had organized it but he and James were going to be married on James’ sixteenth birthday. 

He tried to keep from screaming then smiled. His father had been right. There as nothing he could do about the marriage but there was nothing Richard and Jimmy could do about a divorce. It could be dragged out months, even years (Sebastian had seen it enough with friends of his) but in the end it came through and the marriage would end. He could start his life after that. 

His father had asked him to make an effort. Could he? He hated Jimmy, but…but Augustus had stated the boy was as innocent in this as him. Jimmy never questioned the marriage—he didn’t know if Jimmy knew what it really meant, just that it was another part of his life. Could he- could they---- He fell asleep.

The weekly calls continued, Jimmy’s side of the conversation progressively getting longer. Sebastian often was regulated to listening as James spoke about his habits and new interests (the boy was astonishingly bright). He never once mentioned a friend. Though to be fair neither did he.

He never once mentioned James to anyone at school, even after his conversation with his teachers. It was easy to forget about James outside those weekly phone calls and bi-yearly visits. He made friends, scheduled his life as normal, Wednesday aside his life was no different than anyone else’s. That was how he met Rosalie Stevens, at his rugby matches. She was sitting, watching the game with a group of friends. 

She had smiled at him shyly and when he had approached her afterward had shown an interest in him that he had been slow to recognize as attraction. He had tried asking her out a few weeks later, sputtering and chocking. She interrupted him with a laugh and answered with an enthusiastic “Yes!” He had kissed her half a year later. Then had broken up when he had gone away for the summer. 

It had been difficult to explain why she could neither write nor call him. (He had failed miserably in finding a realistic answer short of the truth.) He got rid of all her things – notes, a few photographs, even the small keychain she had given him - all because Jimmy would start visiting that summer. 

Therefore, it was extremely disconcerting when he had stepped into the Moriarty home that summer and hear James declare angrily, “Who is she?” in front of his father. Sebastian had not gotten over his fear of Richard Moriarty and couldn’t help but look at him when James had mentioned it. 

Richard had turned over to him and spoken. “Who is who, Jimmy?”

“His girlfriend.” James hissed, small hands clenching as he walked over to him and smelling him. What the hell? Sebastian had laundered everything he owed. What had he missed? “That’s not Mrs. Moran’s perfume.” Sebastian wondered how James knew that; he had only met his mother once last winter. He saw her nearly every day and he couldn’t tell you what her perfume was or if she even wore one.

Had Rosalie worn a perfume? 

“I don’t have a girlfriend. Well, not one anymore.” He corrected as James glared at him. He was already in trouble with Richard he didn’t want to deny it. The older man believed his son over Sebastian any day. James however looked confused. 

“Why do you need a girlfriend?” he demanded. “You have me. You can’t have anyone else. Daddy, tell him he’s mine.” 

“Why don’t you explain why you feel you need a girlfriend, Sebastian?” Richard asked in such a sweet voice that Sebastian knew again that he would be hurt if he gave the wrong answer. Richard Moriarty had struck him exactly four times, two of which were more properly called beatings. He did not tell his father or his mother about those. Something stubborn in him refused to let the man have the satisfaction of having him surrender.

“I have needs.” he said simply (his father had told him to answer with that if Richard ever found out about Rosalie) though he felt like a pervert saying it and he hadn’t moved passed kissing with Rosalie. “Until we’re married I’m not going to do that with him. He’s too young.” 

Richard looked at him for a moment, and then nodded. “Good.” he turned to Jimmy. “Let him have his girlfriends, Jimmy. They’re just there for the moment.” James pouted then nodded. Then he took Sebastian’s hand in his own, led him upstairs to show him his experiments, his interests, and everything he could think of. As always.

James talked excitedly to him, Sebastian wondered if he had any friends. He looked forward to these visits more than Sebastian dreaded them and seemed to shrug off any of his anger or irritation. After he was done talking about his progress in school he pushed Sebastian on his bed and smiled at him, then looked at him seriously. 

“Kiss me.” James demanded.

“What?” Sebastian asked, feeling ridiculous. “I already do that.” They did, chaste kisses on the cheek or forehead that started when Jimmy was four. 

“Not on the lips. Girls shouldn’t have your first kiss. You’re mine.” Sebastian sighed and kissed him on the lips, nothing more than a peck. James beamed at him, and his smile was slightly manic. “Good. Now you can go back to your stupid girlfriends.” Then paused. “They can’t every say that they had your first kiss.” He frowned. “I had it right?” Sebastian nodded. “Good.” Sebastian never corrected James’ impression that they had shared each other’s first kiss. It didn’t seem wise.

Sebastian watched James work and studied him. He hated the idea of the wedding. James never questioned it. Why? Sebastian didn’t have an answer. He thought over his father’s words. A chance. He had to give it a chance, at least so he didn’t hurt James – who had no choice like him. If Sebastian was right then he seemed to be James’ only friend. He would try, at least to make friends with the boy.

As the next few years Sebastian’s resentment fell away. As James, Jim, grew out of childhood he felt that maybe he could stand the marriage as James’ adult personality came out. With that his fear of Richard Moriarty vanished and he felt in control for the first time since he was eight.

* * *

 

James Moriarty considered there to be several constants in life: the sun’s rise and fall, the time dinner was set in his home, and the person he would marry when he was older. He knew logically that at some point his impeding marriage to Sebastian Moran had not been set but that time was before his established memory.

He never said anything about the marriage nor did he say anything about Sebastian to people. His parents made it clear that people wouldn’t accept it. James didn’t know why, he wasn’t marrying an older man or handed to some pervert. But people were stupid, even as a boy he knew that. It was probably for the best anyway; he doubted he would have found a partner any other way. 

As he washed his hands of blood James wondered if he could kill Sebastian if he found him boring too. He checked the sleeves of his shirt and the looked at his reflection. Nothing out of place. 

He walked out of the bathroom and made sure that he had disposed of the squirrel properly. That hadn’t been as fun as he had originally thought. He’d find something better. Hopefully. 

He walked out of his room and headed down stairs. His father was waiting by the door with his suitcase. His father nodded at him. “Ready Jim?”

“Yes, da.” He replied and walked out of the home with him. 

He was visiting Sebastian, this time round. 

The train ride to Sussex bored him as always. He slept most of the ride and had found himself trying to get distracted by seeing what he could find out about people by looking at them. He found it tedious and dull; people were always the same and so were their secrets. 

One man was cheating on his wife; he had his lover’s rouge on his shirtsleeve. The consistency of it was too dark to be an accidental caress on the skin of some unknown woman. His wife, next to him, was thinking of divorcing him: she kept playing with her ring and she had noticed the make-up, which meant she had known for sometime. 

He couldn’t count the number of people he had caught cheating. James frowned and thought about it. Would Sebastian cheat on him once they were married? They would speak about it, decide if they would be faithful or have what his mother called an “open” marriage. Certainly Sebastian couldn’t cheat on him without him knowing. 

Sebastian had had a few girlfriends. James knew about them all. The first time he had mentioned one Sebastian had been startled, almost frightened but when James had shown him how he could tell his fiancé had remarked how frightening his mind must be. Sebastian knew he was intelligent, but, what, evil? He liked to hurt things; he didn’t care about people like everyone else did. He didn’t even know if he could love someone or anything. 

Would Sebastian accept that as easily as his intelligence; one could be dealt with by almost everyone the other, people turned against it. 

The lull of the train caused him to fall asleep again before he realized it. 

When he woke up he noted he had almost missed his station and that the husband and wife were gone. He sat up straighter and hissed when the bruises on his sides ached. Stupid boys, if he were older he’d hurt them worse and get his revenge on them. 

He looked out of the window; it was snowing. How boring. 

Half an hour later he walked into the station where Mr. and Mrs. Moran were waiting for him. They were such dull people. At least he would spend most of it with Sebastian; he was reasonably less dull than those around him. 

Augustus Moran was afraid of his father, James didn’t know why but he didn’t care since it meant that he was treated very well at the Moran home. Sebastian had the tendency to treat him like a thorn in his side but was never cruel to him. James hated that but it made him more interesting because he could always get some kind of reaction from him. 

The car ride jolted his aching ribs but he refused to let anyone know he was hurt. He’d find a way to take care of them. He wished his father hadn’t moved him and his mother to London but it was too late to move back to Ireland and back to the school were people ignored or feared him. 

The Moran’s home was small with enough bedrooms for the Morans and Sebastian. James usually slept in Sebastian’s room. He slept in the bed while Sebastian slept in his parent’s room on a bed that rolled out from under his parent’s bed. 

Sebastian had refused to leave his room this visit and James would sleep on the ground on the roll away bed that had been awkwardly fitted into Sebastian’s room. James wouldn’t have cared except for his ribs; Sebastian might see them. He didn’t want anyone to think he was weak and couldn’t take care of himself. 

When James entered the bedroom to find Sebastian away. He felt a stab of jealousy. Was he with one of his girlfriends again? He knew he was being stupid; Sebastian never had the problem of making friends like James did. Well, James could make friends easily but not with his ‘real’ self. He’d done it plenty of times. 

Looking at the roll away James frowned as Mr. Moran placed his bags the only free corner of the room. “Sebastian’s out with friends. He’ll be back tonight.” James nodded. “Dinner is at six. If you want to get cleaned up or do anything before then just let me know.” James again nodded. 

James still felt tired. He looked at the roll away and glared at it. He wasn’t sleeping there. He crawled into Sebastian’s bed and sniffed the sheets (cleaned as were the ones on the roll away) and fell asleep. 

Sebastian’s arrival woke him up. As the light flared on he glared at the older boy. “You’re in my bed.” Sebastian uttered irritated. 

“Just for a week.” James muttered. He usually got his way around Sebastian and the Morans (his father’s influence). 

“No, not anymore. You’ll sleep there.” He pointed to the ground. 

“No.” 

“Fine, but I’ll let you know that if you’re there tonight I will kick you out.” 

“I’ll tell my father.”

“I don’t care.” James sat up quickly, hissing as the action pulled at his ribs. This was new. Since when wasn’t Sebastian afraid of his father? “Yeah, that won’t work anymore. Now off.” Sebastian pulled him off and James couldn’t keep from yelping. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” He snapped and held his ribs. Sebastian batted his hands away and pulled up his shirt. The bruises on his abdomen seemed to glow for a moment. 

“Who did this?” Sebastian snarled. 

“No one.”

“So you kicked yourself in the ribs with a boot that is too big for your feet, Jimmy? Well done then.”

“Oh shut up, Seb. I can take care of it. They’re just a few boys at school.” 

“Who are they?” Sebastian asked him with such passion that James felt surprised. 

“I said no one.”

“Well no one has the right to hurt you.” Sebastian snapped. “Tell me who they are, I’ll take care of it.” 

“No.” James said. “I’ll do it. I’m twelve I shouldn’t have to come to anyone for this.” 

Sebastian looked at him and glared. “I’m teaching you to fight.” 

“No.” James said.

“Yes.” Sebastian ordered. “But right now we have dinner.” James sighed and let Sebastian lead him down the stairs. Sebastian’s grip on his arm was surprisingly gentle and James leaned into it. “I’ll teach you how to fight, protect yourself when I’m not there.” Sebastian muttered to him softly. “If you need help just call me, I’ll do what I can.” 

James nodded. When had Sebastian changed? The grip on his arm vanished as they entered the dinning room. James let himself relax. This change wasn’t so bad.


	3. Carl Powers

**CHAPTER TWO: Carl Powers**

When Sebastian started attending Oxford, James would go visit him weekly instead of having a weekly phone call. James' mother had protested the action, his father had encouraged him to meet Sebastian, pleased at the act. James wondered what his parents would think if they knew what he actually went there for: sparring. 

James’ technique in fighting had Sebastian frustrated; he would fight well but over thought the scenarios. Sebastian knew James’ intellect bordered on genius (if not made it) but practical seemed to be out of his vocabulary. It made Sebastian work him harder. 

“For fuck’s sake, Jimmy. Stop thinking!” Sebastian ordered as he pushed the younger man down to the ground again, careful not to hurt him. 

“I can’t!” James snarled as he struggled from beneath Sebastian. “I can’t ever turn it off. I just need to know how to plan it right. I can’t do that until I learn how to fight properly. Right now it’s all like pieces floating in my head trying to rearrange itself.” He looked frustrated. “It’s incomplete and it’s driving me mad! Why do you think I keep coming back even though they leave me alone now? I need to finish the puzzle.”

Sebastian stared at James. He thought about the past few years and incidents where James’ observations seemed almost eerily omnipotent. “So your brain's always running?” he nodded. “That makes sense.” For a few years he had actually suspected Richard Moriarty had spied on him but dismissed it after Richard looked surprised at some of James' comments. “You pick up things people like me can overlook. You always do it with girlfriends even though I had clean up, I miss something.” James’ face contorted in anger at the mention of his girlfriend. Sebastian ignored that. James hadn't ever outgrown his 'mine' phase in some ways.

“Yes. For example you had toast and jam this morning for breakfast. You have a stain on your sleeves from it. You always have a stain when you eat jam. I may not be able to guess that from a random person but from you I can tell that given the colour it’s most likely strawberry. You love strawberry and keep a pretty predictable schedule most days. I can’t recall a time you didn’t have that stain on a piece of your clothing on Saturday or Sunday.”

“I need to stop eating jam.” Sebastian replied. 

“You don’t think it’s weird?” James asked curiously.

“Probably but you’ve always been able to do that, tell me things that make me feel stupid even though I’m older than you.” Sebastian shrugged. “You might not be able to remember time when I didn’t have jam on me so it seems normal. I can’t remember a time you weren’t smart or a bossy git.” He glared at the younger boy. “The fact that you’re a bit of a bastard bothers me more than the genius.”

“I’m not a bit of a bastard, Seb. I am a bastard.”

“Language.” Sebastian chastised half-heartedly. 

“Hypocrite.” 

“Nothing, you can do about it.” Sebastian smirked. James kicked him in the shin.

“You little bastard!” Sebastian yelped as rolled away from James, holding his bruising shin in his hands. James laughed and ran toward the entrance. 

“See you next week Seb!” James yelled as he ran.

“What? Jimmy, get back here! We’re not done. Jimmy!” Sebastian lied down on the mat of the gym and glared after his fiancé. He would get his revenge next week. 

\---  
James stared at his bruised fists. Sebastian’s lessons had made quick work of his tormentors nearly a year ago but now the skill seemed useless. He hadn't been jumped nor had a real fight in over a year, but he actually did enjoy learning to fight with Sebastian. He smiled cruelly. He liked to fight for an entirely different reason. Oh, he had loved breaking Matthew's fingers the last time he had fought; Sebastian hadn't taught him that; he had just stomped on the older boy's hand while laughing. Now he and his two 'friends' left him alone. 

The smile on his face turned into a snarl. If only Carl fought him instead of humiliating him. Jimmy could show him he wasn't weak. Carl turned his intellect into a joke and managed to get everyone to like him no matter how much James tried to prove he wasn't. What was manipulation worth if his opponent was somehow better at it?

James hated Carl Powers. 

He entered his home before dinner. His father frowned at him when he entered but ignored him otherwise. James ran upstairs to bathe before dinner. The shower left him relax and his hunger felt well earned. 

He went downstairs and stared at his parents as they set the table. His mother smiled at him. 

“How was your trip, Jim?” She asked softly. 

“Fine, mum.” he replied truthfully. She caught a sight of his knuckles. “It's fine, Sebastian insists I learn to punch properly.”

“Hasn't he said that the last couple of times?”

“Yes.” James wasn't sure what was wrong his punching but Sebastian kept correcting it each time they sparred. “I don't know what he keeps changing but I suppose I'll get it right eventually.” He said smiling at her. His father stared at him intently for a moment. 

“You and Sebastian are getting along well, then?”

“Yes.” James answered. 

“Good. Now, sit down.” James sat and listened as his parents spoke about nothing important. 

\---

School started on Monday with maths. James tried not to let the fact that Carl also managed to attend the class ruin it for him. Maths and science were his favorite subjects; complex enough to interest him and boring only when taught or dealt with by a moron. He smiled as he thought about the time he had helped Sebastian with his university maths course much to his chagrin. Moron and Moran he had joked. Sebastian had frowned but said nothing. When he had come back the next week for his lessons Sebastian had proceeded to retaliate by sparring until he was exhausted. 

Carl ruined the class with his very presence. Stupid boy. James would get rid of him someday or at least get him to leave him alone like Matthew.

The day passed quickly; Carl ignored him as much as Jimmy did. 

It is only after school ends that Carl confronted Jimmy. 

He slips an arm over the smaller boy's shoulders, grasps him firmly, and leads him behind the main building while saying aloud. “Can I have a word, Jim?” in a very jovial and friendly tone. He carries a smile that could fool anyone but Jim. 

Jim could break free but there are teachers watching and he would only be able to   
break free of such a strong grasp with a bit of force that would lead embarrassment and questions he did not wish to answer. At least a chastisement that would draw people's attention and cause them to dislike him more, after all who could hate Carl Powers? (Aside from James Moriarty who was too quite or too smart for his own good. There must been something wrong with him.- Jim didn't know if people actually thought this- did they?- but Carl somehow put those ideas in his head. Made him doubt himself in a way no had every quite managed. 

God he hated him.

Once they were behind the building the arm moved back and shoved him against the wall. “Wait there.” A moment later three other boys joined them. It was Matthew and his friends. “I heard that you had some trouble with these boys here a while back but that ended when you hurt Matt here pretty badly.” Matthew smiled viciously at him. “Now I want you to apologize to him and let him have a little payback.” Carl smiled at him. “It's the least you can do.”

“If I don't?” Jimmy snarled wishing he were bigger. 

“Then Matt here is going to beat me up a bit and I'll blame it on you.” He smiled at him. “You already made it clear you don't like me a few weeks ago.” It was true, Jim had let his control slip and had snarled at Carl to leave him alone. “Your fists are always bruised, from what I don't know. I don't want to know. A little queer like you probably gets his kicks from being beaten or beating someone.” Jim snarled at them. “So apologize.”

“No.” 

Carl smiled and pushed him to the ground. “It wasn't a request.” Then he kicked him forward so he was kneeling, grovelling, in front of Matthew and his friends. Jim wanted to snarl that he'd kill them but kept it in him. He refused to say anything. Carl sighed. “I don't have all day, Jimmy.” James glared at them. “Fine. Have it your way.”

“Avoid the face boys.” Instead of hitting Carl Matthew and his boys hit him. 

\---

James does not go home. He steals money,and heads to Oxford. His breathing is heavy and erratic. He cannot see the people around him. He doesn't care. 

“We'll do this every week until you learn some manners, Jim-boy.” Carl had said cheerfully as he older boys hit him then dragged him up. He was pathetic. He couldn't save himself for all his genius. “Do you understand?” He wanted to spit in his face. Instead he tried to launch himself at Carl. Matthew and his friend pulled him back and shoved him down. “See you tomorrow, Jimmy.”

Things became quite after that. He does not want to go home. Maybe Sebastian would have a solution because for all his genius Jimmy cannot think of one short of violence. He knows where Sebastian’s room is and breaks in, managing to pass security and ignore concerned glances. 

Sebastian startles at the intrusion. No girlfriend with him, he is studying. His roommate is frightened. Sebastian orders him out with a bark of command that would make any military man proud. His roommate leaves. Jim wonders how long this takes because it feels as though he is both angry and serene at once. 

The moment the door closes behind Sebastian’s roommate James feels like screaming. He does not, of course. Instead he launches himself at Sebastian all fists and anger. Sebastian easily subdues him, grabbing him in a hold that James could break out of but has no desire to. Instead he chooses to thrash because he does not want to hurt Sebastian. 

He knows there is a reason he came to Sebastian. 

He cannot remember it. 

He wants to hurt Sebastian. 

He does not want to hurt Sebastian. 

He manages to talk after what seems like an eternity of pure unadulterated hate. 

“I want to kill him.” It calms out calmer than he anticipated.

Sebastian lets him go and turns him around. James' fists are clenched by his side. “Who?”

“Carl.”

“Who is Carl?”

“I'm going to kill him.” James amends his previous declation and smiles. “I'm going to kill him. I tried to be noble, Seb but I like this better. I need to do this. I am going to kill him and if you want to stop me you can call the police.” He feels the plan arranging itself in his head and it is beautiful. 

This is the puzzle he had been trying to solve. How could he have missed it?

Sebastian stares at him and for a moment James could almost imagine he is not there ready to stop him. “How?” Jimmy tells him because he it will never happen but it is still beautiful. Sebastian does not pull away in horror nor does he frown. He just stares again and says:

“Calm down.” 

He takes him to a hotel. 

\---

Sebastian is worried when he sees Jimmy. The look on his face is frighteningly blank then malicious. Sebastian has seen a facsimile of that cruel, evil smile on television but it pales to the real thing. After his initial outburst James is seemingly serene. It worries him more than he wants to let on because despite the appearance the intensity of James' face is unnerving, uncanny. 

It reminds him of alligators. The thought seems to make things better.

The hotel is only a rock's throw the side of reputable. He gets a few looks when he brings Jimmy in but no-one says anything. Jimmy's glare seems to be helping. The journey to the hotel seems to have calmed James down but he does not say anything during the ride over. Sebastian cannot be sure he is not lying to himself. 

When they enter their room Sebastian calls James' parents. Mrs. Moriarty is livid with worry and threatens to come over. It takes everything he has in him to calm her down and he swears he will bring James back in the morning. For now, it its too late. Richard Moriarty does not say anything. Mrs. Moriarty is reassured when James takes the phone from him and speaks to her. He tells her he is fine just upset with something that happened at school. He will see her in the morning.

Sebastian orders James to clean up before they can talk. James does. When the younger boy comes out, clad in his undershirt and pants, Sebastian sees scraped knees and a lot of bruises. Sebastian feels anger build in him. No one was supposed to touch Jimmy after last time. That was the entire point of their sessions. 

Then he feels angry at James. He told him to tell him if anyone harassed him. He would take care of it but like always James had to handle it on his own. James is looking at him curiously and obviously waiting for something to happen. For Sebastian to yell at him, turn him in, berate him and convince him that what he feels is not valid. 

Sebastian is more frightened of his own reaction than James'. He hadn't imagined he'd feel this before, the complete and utter urge to kill someone, to kill a child. He has experienced anger – there was a reason he fought so well before his father forced him into boxing-- but never this calm and dark thing that demands satisfaction. He's not sure if it has always been there or if it just appeared when James told him his plans. 

Sebastian had James lie in bed, tucked him in and had him speak again. James' dark eyes smoldered with anger and hatred. 

“I'm going to kill Carl Powers, Sebastian.”

“Who is Carl Powers?” He asked again. 

“A school-yard bully with more charm than brains and arms made for beating heads in.” He spat. “He's a swimmer and he is older than me.” he lowered his voice. “I want him to drown.” Sebastian snorted. 

“Dramatic irony?” James smiled, a grim thing that looked like a dog snarling. 

“Maybe. I'm going to poison him. Poison his stupid shoes.” That required a bit more elaboration but once it had come out Sebastian had to admit it was brilliant. “What are you going to do, Seb? Are you going to turn me in?” 

“Don't be stupid, Jimmy.” Sebastian told in a voice that was full of excitement. “I'm going to help you.” James' surprise was quickly quelled with pleasure. 

“Good, good.” James suddenly looked tired but content. 

“You believe me.” James' look told him 'who are you talking to?' “Of course you do.” Sebastian said grinning. 

James smiled and yawned. “Come to bed, it's big enough to fit us both. You can't go back to your dorm, you'll get robbed at this time of night.” 

Sebastian took Jimmy home in the morning as he had promised feeling terribly exhausted. James kicked in his sleep (something the boy denied) and complained that Sebastian moved far too much in turn. 

“We're are getting separate beds when we're married or a bed big enough so we don't have to touch each other.” James had uttered on the ride back. 

“Yes.” Sebastian agreed as he rubbed the bruise on his leg. James smiled at him and Sebastian returned it. Sebastian remembered the first time he had met Jimmy and the way the then two-year-old had smiled at him as he babbled incessantly in a way that he hadn't quite understood, only this time Sebastian understood him, clear as day, and he liked what he heard.   
\----

Carl's death made the news. James kept his shoes. Sebastian started collecting newspapers. 

\----

“Seb are you – holy fuck! Sorry, I didn’t realize you were with – ” Grant stopped at stared at the teenager glaring at him from Sebastian’s bed. Teenager was the right term, he looked barely to be fourteen and too young to be even a first year but getting there. “I’m uh sorry.” 

“He thinks you’re a paedophile, Seb.” the boy drawled, Irish accent startling him further. Sebastian popped from under the covers and glared at him. 

“Not what it looks like. We did sleep together but in the literal sense.” Sebastian croaked, voice hoarse and eyes heavy with sleep. 

The boy slid from Sebastian’s bed. He was dressed in a pair of worn athletic shorts that Grant knew belonged to Sebastian and an old t-shirt. There were no signs of sex or anything that made Grant want to call the police. He looked at him critically and then extended his hand. “James Moriarty; you must Greg. I’ve heard about you.” 

“Grant,” Sebastian corrected before Grant could even though he took his hand. The boy had a firm grip. “Ignore him, Grant. He’s being an ass, he’s always an ass.”

“I’ll remember you said that, Sebastian.” James drawled. “That puts The List at 72.”

“I’m still winning, you’re at 84.” Sebastian retorted. Sebastian crawled out of bed, he towered over both the boy, who didn’t look to have hit his full adult height yet, and Grant by a few inches. Sebastian turned around to look at Grant with sharp eyes. “What did you want?”

“Um, Martha is asking for you; something about you having borrowed her chemistry book?” Sebastian frowned then nodded. He walked to his desk and pulled the book out. James sat on his bed looking like he belonged there and Grant felt as if he were intruding in the boy’s room rather than his roommate’s. 

“Is she here?”

“No, she said she’d be at Rebecca White’s room if you needed her but if you could get it to her by three?” Grant spoke confidently now; trying to ignore the boy was easy when they were speaking about familiar territory. 

“Yeah, I’ll get it to her.” Sebastian yawned at looked at his guest. “Do you mind, Grant? We need go get ready.” 

“Oh, yeah. See you later?” Grant questioned. 

“Yes.” Sebastian answered and Grant headed out, closing the door behind him. Half an hour later both men appeared, James looked like any other teenager and Sebastian looked like he would kill for coffee. James was still looking at him, seemed to realize his discomfort and smirked. 

“I have to go now, Seb, darling. I’m sure mother will call the police if I don’t get back home at the right time.” Sebastian nodded absent-mindedly and was looking for his coat. James pulled out a wallet from his pocket. Sebastian turned to him and glared, he reached out but James pulled it away. 

“Jimmy,” Sebastian warned. 

“Kiss, then you’ll get it back.” Sebastian rolled his eyes but bent down and kissed the younger boy chastely on the lips. Grant looked on feeling uncomfortable. There was something odd about the kiss. Neither of the two was uncomfortable with it, it looked like something they would do as a normal part of their relationship, but at the same time there was nothing sexual in it. James pulled back, smiled and handed over his wallet. “Head straight home, James. I’m not dealing with calls from our parents because you didn’t go home because you felt like a prick today.”

James waved him off and left. 

“Seb, what was that?” Grant had to know. If Sebastian was a creep he had to know. Sebastian sighed and ran his hand through his hair. 

“He’s my fiancé.”

“Fiancé.” Grant repeated as if he heard wrong. Sebastian shot him an irritated look. 

“Yes, we’re…it’s been like this since we were children. Our parents’ decided we’re going to get married and we are.” He shrugged. “I don’t any reason not to marry him. And yeah, the kissing is weird especially now but it’s more habit than anything. Trust me, there was nothing sexual about me kissing a four year old when I was ten.” He grimaced. “Though that was on his cheek back then. I would appreciate it if you didn’t say anything about it. It’s weird and I usually can forget about it but he showed up yesterday out of no where because he was angry at his parents.” 

Grant nodded. That made sense, even though he knew arranged marriages were now rare they still happened; usually it made the news when one party (usually a girl) left and escaped to child services. Sebastian and James looked comfortable with it though and if it had been a part of their childhood Grant understood they probably had grown use to the idea, grown to accept it. 

“Fine, I won’t say anything but it does look weird I mean you’re an adult and he’s still a kid.”

“Trust me, I know. Don’t let him call you that, he’s in the phase where he thinks he’s an adult and can do anything alone.” Sebastian grinned then yawned. “I have to get coffee. I’ll see you later?”

Grant nodded feeling relieved. One thing bothered him though. “Sebastian, what’s “The List”?”

Sebastian smirked. “Pre-marital grievances.” Grant laughed and saw his friend away.

**Author's Note:**

> If you have a suggestion for a better title please do not hesitate to mention it.


End file.
